Caffe Interactions

I was talking today to a colleague and friend from work about the need we have to talk more about failure. 
While – fortunately – there is a growing tendency to do so, I think we need to do it even more. Talk about what’s difficult, what didn’t work out, what went wrong; talk about crying, the sadness when we feel like that, the frustration, what hurts and what we don’t even know how to express but, at least, need to try. 

Here’s an example: I grew up following the model that dictates that my profession and its practice are factors that determine the success I will or won’t be able to have and show to the world. The printed diploma determines who I am and who I will be, to the extent that I achieve certain more or less stipulated and stereotyped goals, according to the popular notions that are known about the occupation. That diploma is a cage that, over the years, became a complex prison with all kinds of cells. Prison from which I will get out only if I critically observe the paradigms under which I grew up and accepted unconsciously, so as to free myself from them.
This is my personal story, the one I can learn from and share. 
When I finished high school, I studied Astronomy for two years because, for as long as I can remember, the notion of infinity of the universe, the stars and what lies at the bottom of what my eyes see dark at night, has completely captivated my mind and spirit. Despite all that fascination and love for “outer space”, logical thinking and the language of mathematics and physics, two years of an academy that claimed difficulty as its flag and an overwhelming system <for the few, erudite and naturally privileged or sacrificed>, were enough for me to decide to walk away. Life for me had to be more magical than a snobby sacrifice.
After quitting I studied art and got my degree -the road to that thesis is as ridiculous and riddled with mandates as almost anyone’s-. I have been asking myself for over 12 years what I want to do with that Diploma and the answer is a struggle between (an automatism dictated by) duty and a place where I imagined myself many years ago, with a mindset that I no longer have. 

Frustration is one of the immediate and inexorable results of this story. And I believe it is necessary to declare it and share it, to cut once and for all with some mental habits such as being too hard on myself, blaming me for my doubts and my changes of heart and comparing me with others as a way of punishing myself. Over time, with the gradual work of healing my self-love and accepting my path, my personal victories and my emotional world, positive results have added to this frustration. Even so, in this case I want to continue exploring this powerless and negative feeling, because when sharing my experience, I keep meeting many people in similar processes. I believe this sharing could be a way of helping each other.

The validation of my abilities based on my professional practice is a hard thing for me to let go of when it comes to stop judging myself, although when I talk to friends or other people, I would never think of associating them. Outwardly, my scale of values works according to the internal work I am doing, but when I look at myself, automatism continues to win out. 
It is very difficult for me to let go of the egomaniac illusion I formed of myself in the exercise of that art diploma. Still, I don’t have a concrete idea of what that would be like.  It’s like a very strong cage, which I don’t know how to escape from, but with an invisible structure. So I don’t really know what material I’m facing, what space exists between each bar, or even if the door is open or closed. The way out is as simple as I want it to be – to make a decision and embody it – or as complex as I can describe it – paralyzed between doubt and fear in an imaginary corner. 
I have long known that I am not interested in working in museums because institutions overwhelm me. I prefer to visit them, be free to enter, leave and take advantage of them when they act as a bridge of circulation. I also know that to be an artist it is enough to know and feel like one, and that no qualification can prove or discredit it. I believe above all in the aesthetic experience of life, in a sense that connects emotion with the mind, the body and the recall of multiple times in memory; be it by writing, getting dressed, cooking, sharing infinite conversations and -also- making what I consider art works. I believe that once we inhabit this way of encoding the experience of life into a language that constitutes a product or event that we can release into the world to resonate with others, there is no turning back. Once we have felt the wholeness of creating poetic content to encode a way of feeling or thinking about life, no one can take that value and capacity away from us, just as it will not be any greater or lesser based on whether or not it has any public validation. The act of creating is a victory per se already in its genesis, regardless of the result. And it is an impulse that we will return to whenever we decide to do so, without the need for degrees, desk positions or institutional merits. 

I understood that I can pack a suitcase, pick up my stuff and relocate to a different city, country and continent to start over, just for the sake of deciding to do so. Now, I don’t have the same ability to move from the vision I once had of myself to the one I would really like to manifest today. It’s that invisible cage again… do you see it? 
Today I have to move from where I am living and not because of my decision, but for reasons beyond my control. Meanwhile, I continue to question the European model of accommodation for people who are single, especially with all the chaos involved in finding a decent room where I don’t have to give up my basic rights to a healthy, normal and necessary social life. At the same time, I ended an affective relationship with a very beautiful person that I still feel as the partner I love, but the conditions of our lives do not favor being together today. And, in addition to all of this, there are these ontological questions of “what do I want to do”, “what would I really like to do” and “who is the Lucía that will answer these questions today”…
However, in this picture I smile anyway.

The story behind every smile has many more tenses, nuances and decisions than the mere portrait of an instant. In fact, I smile because I strongly believe it is a beautiful expression and action to offer to the world and life itself. Smiling is an act of gratitude for opportunities, as well as an expression of joy for being here, no matter what happens along the way. I believe in the act of smiling at the world and others almost as a gesture of vindicating the joy of living; a political act itself. 

Smiling is the victory of having tried, not of the outcome achieved. It is a victory before and after any circumstances. We spend much more time in the journeys towards goals, than in the goals once achieved. And while <Success> continues to devastate our emotional life and feed an increasingly toxic ego, I work daily to re-educate my mind and the way I talk to myself, to sound more like that Lucia who talks to my friends. 

When I entitled this text, I was struck by the fact that the word <attachment> in Spanish “Apego” contains in itself the word <ego>. With its meaning of intense affective bonding and the revolution that there is today, trying to educate us in the liberation of so many attachments that we establish with others, with things and forms of life, it was overwhelming to find that in this word coexist the notions of intense affective bonding with that of ego. It is like a Peter Pan-kind of struggle with his shadow. Learning to deal with the shadow that ego can be, while not missing out on life by devoting all our attention to serving it or dealing with it. 

All in all, this is my intention to promote real stories and encourage their presence in social networks.

Let’s undress the tales of the so-called success and failure.